(We are a relatively small grocery store; as a result, we only have one express lane that is basically always open unless it’s broken. On this particular day, our express lane has stopped working.I see a customer with only bread and eggs in his hands. He makes his way to our express cash only to realize it’s closed. As I make eye contact, he gives me this sort of deer-in-headlights look.)

Me: “Our express lane is currently broken, but we’d be happy to help you at any other cash.”

(The customer mumbles something while shaking his head and walking towards our lottery and cigarettes counter. You can also pay there, but it’s in its own sector near the exit doors. My coworker calls me to tell me what happens next.)

Coworker:*trying to make small talk* “Oh, are there really long lines at the other registers?”

Customer: “No, but your express lane is closed and I want to pay cash.”

Coworker: “Oh, okay.”

Customer: “You know, it’s so annoying that I can’t pay at any cash unless I’m using debit or credit.”

Coworker: “I’m sorry, but you can pay cash, debit, or credit at all of our registers.”

Customer:*being very condescending* “Look. I know how it works here; either you pay cash at the express or you can’t pay at all without a plastic card.”

Coworker: “I assure you, all our cashes take cash.”

Customer: “YOU’RE AN IDIOT! I’ll say it more slowly for you.” *speaking very slowly* “Your express lane is broken; therefore, I must pay in here because none of the other cashes take cash.”

Coworker: “All right. I understand, sir. Sorry for the inconvenience. Have a good day.”

(I work at a popular grocery store chain in the southern United States. A woman comes in and wants to pay with a handful of change.)

Me: “Okay, ma’am. Your total is $3.00.”

(She hands me change.)

Me: “Ma’am, you still owe $1.50.”

Customer:*pointing to a half-dollar coin* “No I don’t. That’s a dollar and a half coin. See, right there? It says, ‘dollar and a half.’”

(After I attempted to tell her that the coin was only worth 50 cents, she told me that the customer service desk would tell me the coin was worth $1.50. Not only was the coin worth a dollar less than the customer thought it was, I had to endure a look of absolute befuddlement on the face of that poor customer service representative. Never before has my college degree felt more useless.)

(I regularly wrangle carts for my job at a local discount grocery store. The storefront is on the left side of a T-shaped intersection in the parking lot, with long lines of parking spaces parallel to the storefronts of the surrounding strip mall. In the middle of a rainy spring day, I am wrestling with a stack of six uncooperative carts when this dude in a red 90s Thunderbird comes flying down the corridor from the main surface street. He turns left at the T, but stops halfway through the intersection. Several slower-moving cars end up stacked behind him, and several more on the other side of the intersection. And there I am, pinned to the corner, trying not to block the other lane with the carts. The man in the Thunderbird just sits there, calmly smoking a cigarette.)

Lady:*in the car next to me* “Could you see what the hold up is?”

Me: “Yes, ma’am.”

(I walk to the front of my carts, a few yards from the Thunderbird. The window is rolled down.)

(He gestures to a spot opposite the front of the store, where a little old lady has just arrived at her car and has not even begun to unload her full cart, and anyone watching would have surmised it would take her a few minutes to do so.)

Me: “Sir, there’s a lot of people stuck behind you. Could you please choose another spot, so the intersection can clear?”

(There are literally dozens of other parking spaces further down the lot.)

Thunderbird Guy: “Ugh. Can’t you people just go around me?”

Me: “No, sir, that would block the other lane, and that would be unsafe.”

(People have been known to drive recklessly in that parking lot, and I don’t want to chance an accident.)

Thunderbird Guy: “Unsafe? HA!”

(The Thunderbird guy sniggered and ignored me for the next five to ten minutes until the old lady finally pulled out of her spot. He finally went into my store to shop. About 30 minutes later, I came in from my cart shift to see the man checking out. Although I didn’t hear what happened, one of our cashiers told him something and he stormed out, leaving a full cart of groceries behind. I later found out he’d tried to purchase $220 worth of groceries with an expired and empty EBT card. Although it hadn’t crossed my mind at the time, there was decal on the red Thunderbird’s rear window of a skeletal hand with outstretched middle finger. That probably should have given me a clue.)

(I work in a frozen food store in the UK. One of the current affairs is that UK supermarkets are not paying a reasonable amount to support our dairy farmers; therefore, they sell milk at quite a cheap price. One customer decides to share their views.)

Customer:*puts down the milk on the counter and asks a question in such a way that it is obvious that she already knows the answer* “So, how much is the milk, again?”

Me: “It’s [price], please.”

Customer: “Well, I think that it is absolutely atrocious! You supermarkets should pay more to support our farmers!”

Me:*her sudden tone takes me off guard, so I nod* “Yes, I think we should do, too. I’m certain that [Other Market Chain] across the road has put their milk prices up in response, though.”

Customer: “Oh, no, that’s too much hassle!” *proceeds to hand me the money and keeps their hand out, ready to take change*

(The customer left, and I was left dumbfounded by the sheer hypocrisy.)